


Unsent Dispatches from the Bardzravand Frontier

by Silvereye



Category: A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine
Genre: Poetry, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvereye/pseuds/Silvereye
Summary: Mahit writes poetry, after everything is over.





	Unsent Dispatches from the Bardzravand Frontier

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know whether these make any sense to anyone who hasn't read the book. I... hope they make sense after reading the book. 
> 
> It's just that attempting to imitate Teixcalaanli poetry while knowing I have neither the strict technical skill nor the immersion in Teixcalaanli culture and thus will probably fail miserably was the only way I could imagine paying homage to this wonderful book. :D

Three lives inside me like star-charts.  
When a planet's orbit frays, impermanent,  
Does it know to fear descent  
Instead of the exhilaration of the fall?

_< Mahit, this is **maudlin**.>_

#

No two perihelions are alike. There is no stillness in a living system.  
In a mirror, all returns are exiles,  
Bitter longing reflected to delight.  
Listen: I know fear in my own face  
But my yearning has been echoed into yours.

 _< Wooden.>_  
_Your poetry skills are no better than mine._  
_< I know. I also know that Eleven Lathe does not deserve this.>_

#

Nothing made by human hands is unmarked  
By the world.  
Entropy increases. Only gravity persists.  
A shell caught between the star and the world  
Will remain so as it erodes.

 _You're awfully quiet._  
_< I felt that way.>_  
_I know._  
_< It would be terribly unwise to send it.>_  
_Yes. I know._

**– DZMARE//PRIVATE//PERSONAL//“(no title)” entry updated 252-9-1-19A (Teixcalaanli reckoning)**


End file.
